


Dancing With Your Ghost

by fallensmiles



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Chat Blanc - Freeform, F/M, I'm so sorry, S3 spoilers, chat blanc x marinette, i just really love chat blanc, love square, really angsty and for no reason, technically marichat if you think about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 06:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21406012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallensmiles/pseuds/fallensmiles
Summary: A Chat Blanc x Marinette oneshot, based off the song Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan (which I'd strongly recommend listening to while reading this). Spoilers for the Chat Blanc episode.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109





	Dancing With Your Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> ah, hi again ! i know this certainly isn't my best work, but chat blanc has had me feeling a lot of things recently and i decided i just had to write something for it; hearing this song just made me think of the episode and i decided i'd try to write something based on it.
> 
> *CHAT BLANC SPOILERS AHEAD*
> 
> this was written at like midnight so i'm sorry if there's a lot of spelling errors jajasj. also, if you'd like to follow me on twitter, my username is lukadupains !

𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲, 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝. 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐲'𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲? 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲.

Sighing, he sat down on the ledge, where he’d spent so many days now; he’s had to stop counting at some point, though the last tally mark scratched into the surface marked five hundred and thirty-seven. Five hundred and thirty-seven days of reliving every moment of his life that had been working up to this moment; every day he’d spent shut out, isolated from the rest of the world; every second he spent fighting off akumas to save the city alongside Ladybug. His lady … every day, he thought of her; of her pools of bluebell, her soft voice calling out to him, their shared love for one another … everything about her, he missed. Yet it was his fault she was no longer with him in the first place.

He hummed softly to himself, though over so many days his own tune had grown monotonous; it had been so long since he’d felt anything other than despair and the deep ache in his chest, longing for what he once had. It felt like a lifetime, or several, had passed since he’d last been Adrien Agreste, or even Chat Noir; it had been so long since he’d been himself, it was as if he’d forgotten how to be himself. No, he wasn’t Adrien Agreste or Chat Noir anymore, just an empty shell of who he once was.

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

A hand at his shoulder was what finally brought him out of his thoughts. Quickly, he turned to face whoever it was standing beside him; his eyes grazed over those pink jeans rolled up at the ankles, and as his icy gaze travelled up even further, he spotted the familiar dark blazer, and even further, those beautiful pigtails and bluebell eyes that had been haunting his dreams for years now.

“My lady!” He yelled, quickly rising to his feet, her hand falling off of his shoulder. He stared at her like she held the stars in her eyes, because to him, she did. Gradually, as if afraid she’d disappear, he reached out to touch her shoulder to make sure she was really there. Upon realizing that she was there, he rushed forward, closing the space between them as nimble appendages circled her lithe fram and pulled her straight up against him in an embrace. She was so warm, and she smelled like honey and vanilla and freshly baked croissants … she was his lady, his princess, and she was standing right in front of him, and he was finally holding her in his arms.

“Mon amour,” he cooed against her skin, squeezing her tightly one last time before he pulled away, just far enough that he could look down into her eyes. “Oh, how I’ve missed you. I thought … I thought I had lost you for forever.”

He couldn’t help the tears trickling down his sickly pale cheeks, and it was far too late to even consider stopping them. In fact, they only threatened to spill out even faster as she raised her hands to cup his cheeks and rub the pads of her thumbs across her skin, wiping away the flowing tears. She looked at him with so much love and adoration in her gaze, he could’ve collapsed onto the ground right there and held her in his arms for the rest of eternity.

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞? 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧? 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭? 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧?

“There’s no need to cry, chaton. I’m right here,” she assured him in a soft tone, one equivalent to an angel’s; oh, he loved it when she did so much as speak. Just the mere sound of her voice was enough to revive whatever fragments of who he once was, buried deep down in the shell of this body. He could feel his heart thump against the confines of his ribcage happily, his hands trailing upwards to cup her own soft cheeks in gloved hands, careful not to so much as barely brush his claws against her skin.

“And you won’t leave me?” He finally asked, once the silence between them had stretched out for what felt like hours. When he spoke, he almost sounded like a child again; a very broken, very sad child, who’d been abandoned for so long and craved human interaction; he craved to be cradled in her arms again, for her to whisper sweet nothings into his ear while her fingers raked through his unruly locks; she’d tell him that everything was alright, that she was here now and that she’d never leave him ever again.

“Of course I won’t leave you,” was what he had received in reply. “I’d never leave you, silly kitty.” The wide grin she gave him that stretched from ear to ear tore at his heart, pulling it in several different directions, threatening to tear it apart into a thousand shattered pieces at once.

𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭.

They fall into a comfortable silence, and he leans down to rest his chin on her shoulder, his arms once again finding themselves at her waist, holding her to him like he’s afraid that if he lets go, she’ll disappear again.

“Chaton, will you dance with me?” She asks, her voice quiet; he barely hears it, though he’s grateful that he does. He gives a nod of his head and pulls back enough to stare down at her. His grip loosens on her as his hands rest at the curve of her hips, while her own rise to drape around his neck.

“There’s no music,” he begins, though he’s already moving. He sways slowly, and she easily follows his lead. He wants to relish in this; the sight of her grinning up at him as he leads them in their dance of love, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with the girl right in front of him. She doesn’t respond, but instead, closes her eyes and leans into his touch, placing her ear against his chest to listen to the dull thrumming of his heartbeat, somehow miraculously still beating against his ribcage.

𝐈 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐧, 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 '𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠...

He sighs against her, his eyelids falling to a close. He lets the light wind rustle through his hair, and his princess leans further into him as if to sheild her from the cold; however, his body is like ice, and it only results in goosebumps spreading across every centimeter of her skin as she shudders against him. Oh, how he’s missed this … just him and his lady, the love of his life, together again; this time, without his father being there to ruin it all.

Ah, yes, his father. He had once believed he was incapable of truly feeling hatred for another human being, but he was proven wrong when he realized just how terrible his father was. Not only was he Hawk Moth, the same villain he’d been fighting against for years now, but he had failed to be a true father to him. He was never there for any of his fencing tournaments, never there to congratulate him on winning. He was never there to have dinner with him, or to tell him happy birthday, or to wish him luck on his algebra test. Hell, he could’ve counted how many fashion shows his father had been to that Adrien modeled in on one hand; most of them were his father’s in the first place! He wasn’t there when he needed his father most, and that was what had really gotten to him.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭.

“Ma princesse, I love you,” he whispers into her ear, and manages to hold her even tighter against his chest. “I don’t know how I’ve managed so long without you here by my side. You’re my whole world and even more beyond that, and I … I missed you, and your hugs, and your laughter, and the way you look at me, and—”

He’s forced to cut himself off as he feels his eyes glaze over with a fresh layer of tears, threatening to spill out and down his cheeks if he dares to say even one more word.

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞. 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲.

“I know,” she says quietly, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She moves one of her hands up to cup his cheek in her hand, wiping away the tear that trickles down his cheek.

“I never got to tell you any of this. I … I killed you, m’lady, and all before I ever got the chance to tell you how much you mean to me. You’re dead, and it’s all my fault.” He sighs, and more tears slip out of his eyes and wander down his cheeks, though she’s quick to wipe them away. “I love you.”

“I know.” She says again, that same smile still plastered to her lips. In that moment, they share so many words without actually saying anyting at all. Years worth of “I love you’s” are exchanged, and he can feel every single thing she feels for him so intensely; it spills out of her and he’s quick to embrace it all with such a warm grasp. He just wants to wrap her and everything he’s feeling inside up in a warm blanket and never let it go; to hold her close to his heart at all times. He leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips, and she easily melts into his touch. His single kiss holds so much emotion, so many words left unspoken. His heart is so full and these feelings are pouring out of him before he even has the chance to truly register them. All he knows is that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is standing in front of her and he loves her with every fiber of his being and that he wants to live out the rest of his days cradling her head in his hands, planting soft kisses to her forehead, and spending every spare second reminding her of how much he loves her. He wants to spend every second with her much smaller hand in his own as they stroll down a busy sidewalk, lightly brushing past the other Parisians — their Paris, the one with people still bustling about at all hours of the day, with the golden rays of the sunshine illuminating every single thing in sight. There’s not much that’s clear to him in this moment, or that’s ever been clear to him in his life at all, but there’s one thing he’s certainly sure of; he is irrevocably in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. His princess, the love and light of his life … the girl he was made for, destined to be with. They’re soulmates, and they know this; the stars aligned and somehow brought him the gift of being able to love her.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭...

When he finally opens his eyes, his arms are empty and his lips are cold and his cheeks are stained with his own tears.


End file.
